The Story of a Life, Volume 4 |
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Page 171
She would walk out , tall , clear - eyed . She would smile at us , and get into her sleigh . The bells would ring . Their sound would carry down Nikolayevskaya Street and disappear in the snow at the end of it .
She would walk out , tall , clear - eyed . She would smile at us , and get into her sleigh . The bells would ring . Their sound would carry down Nikolayevskaya Street and disappear in the snow at the end of it .
Page 198
It was filled with the thin - voiced sound of summer rains . They poured down out of a high sky , drumming on the greenery of the parks . Crystal drops , falling from the clouds , filled my room with their rapid sound .
It was filled with the thin - voiced sound of summer rains . They poured down out of a high sky , drumming on the greenery of the parks . Crystal drops , falling from the clouds , filled my room with their rapid sound .
Page 365
Something began to sound , and then it grew quiet , in the pitch - dark garden outside the open window . I looked at the window : there was neither moon nor stars . The sky must have been covered by clouds .
Something began to sound , and then it grew quiet , in the pitch - dark garden outside the open window . I looked at the window : there was neither moon nor stars . The sky must have been covered by clouds .
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Contents
The Death of My Father | 3 |
My Grandfather Maxim Grigorievich | 10 |
Carp | 16 |
Copyright | |
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already answered arms asked Aunt began blue called carried clear cold course covered dark don't door dress everything eyes face father fire flowers front gave girl give gray grew hand happened happy hard head hear heard heart heavy held horses Kiev kind knew leaves letter light listened lived looked Mama morning Moscow moved never night officer once opened play quickly quiet remember river road Russia seemed seen shouted showed side sitting smell smiled smoke soldiers sometimes sound standing started station stood stopped street suddenly talk tell theater things thought told took town train trees turned Uncle understand village voice waiting walked wall wanted whole wind window woman woods write yellow young